


Seizing Opportunities

by phoenix_writing



Series: Second Chances [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Getting Together, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:55:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21878953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenix_writing/pseuds/phoenix_writing
Summary: After their unexpected encounter, Harry and Draco ... just keep spending time together.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Second Chances [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1576147
Comments: 1
Kudos: 87





	Seizing Opportunities

~*~

Harry still couldn’t state categorically that he hadn’t been hit by something mind-altering when he’d rescued Narcissa Malfoy. It was actually probably the simplest explanation for what had happened, but the thing was, Hermione had given him a clean bill of health (checking him over again after the mediwizard had actually verified his physical health), and the world hadn’t changed _back_ to the one where the Malfoys barely tolerated him. No, somehow, he was still in this place where his attempts to reconcile had _not_ been rebuffed, where Draco seemed to _want_ to spend time with him.

So maybe he hadn’t ever envisioned a life where he was Portkeying to France so that he could have lunch with Draco Malfoy, but the truth of the matter was that it was the most fun he’d had in ages. He felt more _settled_ than he had in ages, probably since he and Ginny had realised that the pressures that had broken them apart following Dumbledore’s death were representative of bigger issues. It was a bit of a cliche, and Harry knew that he _could_ function on his own, but the fact of the matter was that he had never wanted to. He had learnt self-sufficiency quite young—too young, to hear most people tell it—and he’d wanted his own family—a proper family—for equally as long. And maybe his biggest problem was thinking too early that he’d found it, but … no matter what had happened, Harry had never quite lost that edge of optimism that had got him through some pretty crazy events over the years.

Still, there was absolutely no way that Harry should be thinking things like _family_ with Draco Malfoy. Just because he’d noticed that the man was even more handsome now than he had been when they were kids didn’t mean that Draco would ever want to do anything about that. Just because he showed every evidence of enjoying spending time with Harry didn’t mean that he wanted to do _more_ with Harry. Harry was building a castle of clouds, and he knew it, but telling himself to stop it didn’t seem to be helping.

Harry had kind of thought that his formative years had cured him of any greedy tendencies, but it appeared that when it came to Draco Malfoy, that was not the case.

“Knut for your thoughts.”

Harry startled and looked up to find that grey eyes were narrowed and watching him intently. Swallowing, Harry shook his head, trying to dispel his thoughts.

“It’s nothing,” Harry said hurriedly. “Sorry. Uh, what were you saying?”

He barely suppressed a wince at his own gaucheness, his words doing nothing to dispel the watchfulness in Draco’s eyes.

“If you have something you’d rather be doing, Potter, I wouldn’t dream of keeping you from it.”

The frosty drawl made Harry flinch, and he hastened to assure the other man, “There’s nothing I would rather be doing.”

An eyebrow rose sharply, and Harry realised belatedly just how earnest and definitive he had sounded. He swallowed.

“Nothing?”

Scrambling, Harry said, “Well, I mean, I enjoy doing lots of things, of course, but I, uh, really like spending time with you.”

“So much so that it’s become your most enjoyable pass time?” Draco pursued with the delicacy and precision of a scalpel.

Harry blew out a breath. “Less so when you’re interrogating me. Could we not do this, Malfoy?”

There was a long pause, and then Draco leaned back and made an expansive gesture with his hand and arm that was nevertheless so precise that it belied the underlying tension.

“By all means. We should certainly be doing whatever it is that you would like to be doing right now, Potter.”

Harry felt a spark of temper at the snideness, but then his sense of humour reasserted itself, and he made a face at Draco.

“Well, apparently not, because what I’d like to be doing right now is enjoying this excellent meal and not fighting with you.”

Draco considered him for a taut moment, and then he blew out a breath.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I might be a little on edge.”

“Should I have been asking for a knut for _your_ thoughts?” Harry pursued carefully, trying to make sure he sounded non-judgemental so that Draco knew he could open up or not, as he preferred.

To Harry’s surprise, Draco flopped all the way onto his back on the picnic blanket, staring up at the blue sky. They seemed to get a lot more blue sky in France, somehow. Much better weather for picnics.

Draco was silent for so long that Harry thought he’d decided not to pursue the topic, only then he spoke abruptly.

“Do you ever wonder what brought you to this point in your life?”

Harry let out a laugh. “All the time. Mostly, it starts and ends with Voldemort.” Draco flinched faintly. “But I’m always trying to figure out how to forge my own path and make sure that everything that he did doesn’t define what I can be.”

“You’ve never been defined by the Dark Lord, Harry,” Draco said, sounding very serious all of a sudden. “He tried so hard to box you in, and he failed so utterly. None of us would be here if you weren’t so completely your own person that he couldn’t figure you out at all.”

Harry was stunned for a moment, and then he beamed at Draco.

“I think that’s one of the nicest things that you’ve ever said about me.”

“Don’t let it go to your head, Potter,” Draco scoffed, but his tone was much milder than the words suggested.

“It’s just so much, you know?” Harry mused. “It was so intense. We all lost people we cared about, our childhoods, had to make decisions that none of us should have had to make. It’s going to have repercussions for the rest of our lives, probably, but at the same time, it _doesn’t_ define us. It was _six years_ ago, Draco. That’s our school career over again. And there’s all these other years spreading out before us, and people are forgetting and moving on, and they _should_, we should, but—”

Harry struggled to put what he was feeling into words.

“—but there are some things you can’t forget?” Draco proposed.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, glad that one of them was articulate. “Some things that stay with you even if you don’t want them to.”

“Some marks are permanent,” Draco said carefully.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed once more, absently rubbing at his forehead. “With you forever, and everyone knows.”

It was only in Harry’s nightmares that the scar hurt anymore. Not once since Voldemort had really died had the scar hurt when Harry was awake. It was never red and irritated now, had even faded from what it once was normally. Harry had finally begun to grow used to this idea of not having splitting headaches thanks to a megalomaniac dark lord feeling strong emotions. But it wasn’t _gone, _and there was still that tiny part of him that … worried. It had become such an integral part of his growing up that it was hard to let it go, even though nearly as much time had passed now as time where he had been afflicted by its connection to Voldemort.

Lost in his own introspection, it took Harry too long to realise that Draco had fallen very silent. Looking over, he found that the man was frowning faintly, a furrow in his brow. He appeared altogether unhappy, and not just the sort of petulant unhappy that Harry remembered from their childhood, but a deeper, darker unhappiness that Harry would really rather not see on the man’s face. Harry was … bemused. It seemed highly unlikely that Draco was angsting over Harry’s scar, so why—

Harry straightened abruptly. He was an idiot. Not all marks were physical—or just because a physical mark disappeared didn’t mean that its impact did. Harry had thought that they were spending time in the French countryside because that was where Draco wanted to be. It was beautiful, he had a home here … that was under Fidelius.

Harry cleared his throat. “So next week, the Ministry is having their annual celebration of the defeat of Voldemort.”

Draco blinked, his expression fading to the neutral mask that he was so good at before an eyebrow rose sharply. “Annual celebration of the Boy Wonder, I think you mean.”

Harry made a face of disgust, and Draco’s lips tipped up faintly, not quite genuine amusement, but not the sneering derision it could have been, either.

Harry sighed. “Hermione says that she’ll body bind me and drag me there herself if I try to get out of it again.”

He’d successfully avoided three out of the last five of them, but he knew better than almost anyone how going up against Hermione was a losing proposition.

The smirk deepened, but the tone was still relatively mild. “Not enjoying your legion of fans, Potter?”

Harry sighed. “I get that they want to celebrate and that it’s kind of momentous. But it’s not just me, you know? So many people contributed, and too many of them aren’t here anymore.”

“So you go for them,” Draco suggested easily.

Harry offered a shallow nod but said quietly, “That hurts.”

Draco’s expression softened. “And that’s why we’re here, Harry. Because you care so much with that big heart of yours. Because you protect your people with everything in you.”

Harry blurted the words out: “Did you want to go with me?”

Draco stared at him, looking completely uncomprehending. Slowly, he repeated, “Did I want to go with you?”

“To the Celebration,” Harry clarified.

Draco was still staring, and Harry had to resist the urge to fidget. Draco sat up completely, shifting so that he was facing Harry fully.

“You’re inviting me to the Ministry. With you.”

Harry nodded, a little worried about the sentence fragments and intense stare.

“Potter,” Draco said, and it was Harry’s turn to flinch. Draco amended, “Harry. Are you asking me on a date?”

Harry hovered for a moment on a precipice. He could laugh it off. He could say he just didn’t want to go alone, that he wanted to go with a friend. He could—

_You may belong in Gryffindor, where dwell the brave of heart._

Shoring up his courage, Harry made himself actually speak, told the truth, though all he managed was the one word.

“Yes.”

There. Harry had done his part, and if Draco _didn’t_ want a date, then he would tell Harry so, and if Harry was really lucky, it wouldn’t ruin their fledgling friendship.

Draco’s lips were pinched. “You realise there’s every chance it will be a disaster? That people will think I’ve corrupted you or that you’ve gone to the dark side?”

“Then maybe I wouldn’t have to go back next year?” Harry tried, still not sure how Draco felt about this.

He hadn’t laughed in Harry’s face or outright rejected him, but he hadn’t exactly seemed delighted, either. Harry made a face as he suddenly realised how that sounded.

“I mean, that’s not—I’m not _trying_ to get thrown out or anything. I just … I’d enjoy it a lot more if I were with you, and I thought we were hanging out together in France because it was quiet and no one was bothering us and that was awesome, but then I suddenly wondered if you thought it was because no one knew we were here, and then it just seemed like the best thing to do would be to do what I actually wanted to do anyway, but I kept putting it off because it was crazy, right, the idea that Draco Malfoy had any interest in Harry Potter?”

Harry sucked in a deep breath, realising that his attempt to not babble had clearly come to an end. Draco was still looking at him with an expression that Harry couldn’t interpret.

And then he said, “You’re such a Gryffindor.”

Harry blinked at the other man, not sure what to do with that. Still not a rejection, but … not acceptance either.

He shrugged, took the comment at face value. “Well, yeah?”

Draco was shaking his head, but before Harry could panic too much, he saw that Draco’s lips had tipped up in a curl of amusement.

“I guess my Slytherin attempts to gauge your interest were a little too subtle for you, huh, Harry?”

“What?” Harry managed to ask.

The look on Draco’s face now was half wry amusement, half exasperation as he gestured around them. “Picnic for two in a field of wildflowers. Visit to the bird sanctuary. Homemade lunch?”

The world rearranged itself again in Harry’s head.

“Wait. Have you been … _wooing_ me, and I didn’t notice?” Harry demanded.

Draco laughed, mostly wry but there was a bitter edge. ”You didn’t shut me down, but you didn’t even seem to _notice_. Like the concept that you could be interested in a Malfoy was so foreign it wasn’t even a consideration.”

“No!” Harry yelped. “I was sort of waiting at first to wake up from the dream where the Malfoys were nice to me all of a sudden, and then I didn’t want to do anything that might ruin that. I was trying so hard to keep it friendly and not read too much into anything.”

Draco huffed a breath. “That explains a lot.” He met Harry’s eyes with ones that were molten silver. “Yes, Harry, I’d like to go with you to the Celebration.”

Harry felt a rising sense of jubilation at the very explicit acceptance. Grinning, he teased, “Yeah? As my date? You’re sure? Got to be as straightforward as possible for a Gryffindor to get it.”

Draco rolled his eyes, but he was smiling too. “Yes, as you’re date. And I’m altogether certain.”

“You know,” Harry said, “we want everything to go as smoothly as possible at the Ministry, so maybe it would be a good idea if we practiced a little beforehand.” He eyed Draco hopefully. “Want to make out?”

Draco laughed. “I will definitely remember that you respond best to direct questions in the future.” His eyes flashed. “And yes, I want to make out.”

Still grinning at one another, they met in the middle of the picnic blanket, and Harry was suddenly certain that no matter what they faced at the Ministry, it was all going to be worth it.

~*~

_Finite incantatem_


End file.
